Everything That Has A Beginning
by Kaitia
Summary: In the summer of 1970, James Potter was only worried about practicing Quidditch and starting at Hogwarts. As the First War begins, the Potter family becomes involved and shapes the course of the wizarding world.
1. September 2, 1970

_12:01_

The alarm clock by Harry's bed blinked over into the new day. July 31st. Harry was 16 years old. As always, Harry had stayed awake to watch the clock turn over to his birthday. Soon, the owls would come flying in while Hedwig was still out scrounging for dinner because Harry hadn't been able to sneak any table scraps away that night.

Harry rolled out of bed and walked towards the window. 16 years. 1 year to go. He always had anticipated the day when he could tell Dudley where to put his Smeltings stick. To pull up all of Aunt Petunia's flowers from the well-manicured front garden and fly his Firebolt in circles around Uncle Vernon's head before bidding adieu to number 4 Privet Drive forever. Harry sighed and leaned against the window frame. He could still see the jagged marks of the outside frame from where Fred, George, and Ron Weasley had pulled the bars of the window nearly 4 years ago. Leaving the Dursleys now seemed near impossible after hearing what Professor Dumbledore had told him. Living under Aunt Petunia's wrath had been the only thing keeping him alive all these years. What would happen once he was 17 and out of Hogwarts?

It was during these moments that Harry truly missed his parentsmore so than usual. Even if he was 16 and the savior of the wizarding world it didn't make up for the fact he had no real family. What would James and Lily say to comfort their son? Harry knew that if his parents were here he wouldn't need reassurance. After all, if he hadn't been born they wouldn't be dead.

Before Harry could wallow further in self-pity there was a rapping at the window. He opened the window so Hedwig could fly in. She swooped through the frame, circling the bed and dropping a package before settling into her cage.

"Hey, Hedwig," Harry muttered, stroking her snowy head. Hedwig hooted in acknowledgement and eyed the package expectantly. Harry sat on his bed and turned the package over in his hands. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and twine with no label anywhere to be found. Carefully, he unwrapped the paper to reveal a thick, wide leather album. As Harry opened it a letter fell out and into his lap, but before he could bend to read it his eyes scanned the first page. Like the album Hagrid had given him after his first year, this one was full of wizard photographs—stern faces, warm faces, children making faces, children playing with toy brooms, families posing for portraits. Many of the pictures seemed to be of the same family of four—a father, a mother, a son, and daughter—and something about them was vaguely familiar to Harry. He studied each of them—their eyes, their noses, their build—and the way the father and son looked so familiar. Harry turned another page to find three pictures—the brother and sister hanging upside down from a giant tree, waving and laughing; the father with the children, the son by his side and the girl on the father's shoulders; and finally, the mother trying desperately to get the boy's black hair to lie down straight, despite the struggles of the son to get away. That's when it hit Harry—the hair, long face; the slender build of the young boy…was James. Harry flipped frantically through the pictures until he reached the last page. It was another formal family portrait—the father's hand resting on the son's shoulder while the mother sat in the armchair with the young daughter perched on the arm of the chair. A caption below confirmed Harry's speculations:

_The Potter Family:_

_Harold and Eleanor Potter with children James and Nora_

_Harold? Eleanor? Nora?_ Was this really James's family? Harry had never heard anything about his father's family besides the fact they were pureblood. If James had a sister then Harry had another aunt! Harry's head was spinning before he remembered the letter that had fallen out earlier. His heart raced as he tore the envelope to reveal a simple birthday card. The front looked like a regular card with a piece of cake and a candle, but the flame on the candle was flickering without actually burning. Just like a wizard photograph, Harry though as he turned the card over to read what was written.

_Happy Birthday Harry!_

_Wishing you all the happiness you truly deserve today. Always remember that your friends and family are always here for you._

The bottom was unsigned. Harry folded the card back and set it next to the book carefully. Moving up further onto the bed he pulled the album into his lap and flipped on the lamp next to the bed. Flipping back to the beginning he began slowly examining the pictures. Imagining the family he never knew…

* * *

Sunlight poured through the windows of the dining room in the manor. Harold Potter was tipping his chair back on two legs as he read _The Daily Prophet_, occasionally reaching forward for his coffee. Eleanor was sipping tea while a quill set about making notes and checking her daily schedule when the dining room door swung open with such force it crashed against the wall and set the china on the table shaking. 

Without looking up from her schedule, Eleanor spoke in a firm voice, "James and Nora Potter you march right back out that door and enter properly."

"It's your fault," James muttered as they slinked back through the door. He blew a patch of black hair out of his left eye.

"Uh-uh," Nora retorted. "You were the one who wanted to race!"

The children stepped into the room considerably more subdued than the first time and took their places at the table.

" Sorry, Mum." James said.

" Don't be sorry. Just don't do it!" Eleanor sighed, flipping a page. "It's bad enough you both go tearing around the house like banshees. You should be setting an example for Nora."

Nora smirked, "Yeah, James. Shouldn't you set an example?" She stuck out her tongue.

James glared as he helped himself to a plate of sausages. "You wait, Norbert, and I'll cut off your ponytail when you're sleeping."

Nora opened her mouth to protest, but a throat clearing from her father made her shut her mouth. So was the routine in the Potter household—brother and sister at odds until Harold got tired of the bickering.

"Are you going to the Ministry today, Dad?" James asked with a mouthful of eggs.

" James, your food—" Eleanor began. James snapped his jaw shut, rolling his eyes.

"Yes," Harold replied gruffly, setting his paper aside. He held up a hand as Nora and James both opened their mouths simultaneously, "And no, you cannot come with me today. I'll be in meetings most of the morning then lunch with Minister Bagnold. After that I have business to attend to in Muggle London regarding some investments."

James sat back dejectedly and chewed on a piece of toast. It looked to be another day of lessons and play with Nora. At 10-years-old, James often wished he had other wizard friends to play with besides his 6-year-old sister, Nora. There were children from the nearby town, but contact with them was infrequent—few townspeople would allow their children to play with the strange children from the house on the hill.

Harold gulped down the last of his coffee and called for Bax, the house elf. "Bax, my cloak and briefcase please."

The dining room door swung open and in bounded Bax in his pillowcase clothing, his large brown eyes eager to please and brandishing a long black cloak and leather briefcase.

"Here, Master Potter!" Bax squeaked. He held up the cloak with spindly little arms. "Will Master be needing anything else?"

"No, thank you Bax." Harold replied, fastening his cloak. Eleanor often told him that the black cloak made the gray streaks in his black hair more pronounced. Harold would only wink a hazel eye and make some remark about it making him look distinguished. At 44 years he had changed very little from the handsome, slender boy of his youth.

Harold bent down to give Eleanor a quick peck. "I'll be home for supper."

Nora scooted out of her chair and jumped up to hug her father. "Bye Daddy!"

Harold smiled as he gave his daughter a quick squeeze. "See you tonight, Nora. James." James waved half-heartedly from the table, still stewing over his father's denial.

Harold left the room and a moment later they heard a 'pop' as he Apparated to the Ministry.

James slumped in his seat. Lessons with Nora, he thought dismally. Even with Hogwarts only a year away, Eleanor Potter insisted on keeping her children up to speed with daily lessons in reading, grammar, history, and mathematics. Every now and again she would let her children watch as she made potions—prompting and encouraging questions as she did so. James and Nora wouldn't be experts, by any means, bout they would have a grasp at the basics by the time they started at Hogwarts.

"May I be excused?" James asked. His mother nodded and James trudged into the living room, flopping into a chair. The room was quite warm now with sunlight streaming in the large paned windows. The polished oak floors shone brightly and took away from the dulling effect of the dark green wallpaper. James had begun counting the flower patterns on the wall when Nora entered and sat in the other chair. She sighed and brushed her dark bangs away from her hazel eyes.

"We can play with Matt and Bridge." She said. Mathew and Bridget Rhodes were some of the few town children who would play with the Potters. Mathew and Bridget were also the same age as James and Nora, respectively.

"Not today," James replied. "Today is the start of term for their school." They sat in silence for a moment before James muttered, "I wish I were at Hogwarts."

Nora frowned and picked a piece of lint off her jumper. She knew better than to argue with James when he was in one of his moods. While James didn't mind playing with his baby sister or sitting through his mother's lessons _all_ the time he still couldn't help but feel a genuine sense of loneliness and frustration regarding life at the Manor. James had grown up hearing stories about his parents' lives at Hogwarts—how his father was captain of the Quidditch team and was often in detention and how his mother was one of the smartest in her class. James wanted to play Quidditch, learn how to use a wand, and spend late nights in the common room cramming with other students for a Charms test. James just wanted to be around boys his own age.

After a few more moments of silence, Nora slid off her chair and left the room. James sighed. Great, he thought, now I've upset Norbert. With another heavy sigh, James stood up and made his way to the foyer. Nora was sitting on the steps, elbows on knees, and chin cupped in her hands as she studied the reflections in the polished marble floor. James leaned against the banister and started down at her.

"Oh, stop pouting, Norbert. I'm not leaving for another year yet and you'll—ow!" James was interrupted by Nora's fist colliding with his right shoulder. "What was that for!"

"For being a whiny git, that's what!" Nora replied. "Are you going to mope about the house like this all year? Ow!" James punched Nora back. "Stop it!"

"You started it!" cried James.

"Did not!" Nora shot back.

"Did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

Nora leapt off the staircase and tackled James. Between the exchange of punches and hair pulling, the two had managed to roll their way towards the middle of the foyer and dangerously close to the small table and crystal vase full of flowers. As Nora made it back to her feet she turned to face James who was kneeling by the table.

"SomeQuidditch—captain—you'll—be." Nora panted. "Can't—even beat—your own—sis—" As Nora began to walk by James he reached out and grabbed her right ankle. Nora, in a state of unbalance, fell forward into the table, sending the vase crashing to the floor. James jumped up, his jaw slack with shock as Nora flipped over and whispered in a horrified tone.

"What did you do?" she hissed.

"ME! It was you who—" James began, but before he could finish—

"JAMES! NORA! WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME…"

Nora and James shot each other equally appalling looks before scrambling for the front door. James had nearly gotten his foot out the partially open door before it slammed shut with such force his hand jerked away from the doorknob.

"What you do that for!" Nora exclaimed.

"I didn't do it!" James shot back.

"I did." A steely voice said from behind them.

Slowly, the two of them turned to face their wand-wielding mother. Eleanor's dark blue robe sleeves were rolled up—her right arm extended, brandishing her wand. The left hand rested on her hip as she narrowed her brown eyes angrily. Grey streaked red hair was already fraying as she began the first of what she knew would be many reprimands that day. Without shifting her gaze from the children she gave her wand a quick flick and set the vase back to its previous state.

"Living room. Lessons. NOW!" Eleanor barked. At 'NOW' James and Nora had already scampered into the room.

By the afternoon the morning melee had already faded from memory as James and Nora were now back on peace terms. Since Eleanor had an afternoon tea appointment with friends, she left the children in the care of Gingy, the other house elf. While Bax often attended to most matters of the house, it was Gingy who saw to most of the cooking, gardening, and watching after the children. Also clothed in a pillowcase, Gingy kept a watchful eye on James and Nora outside as she set about mending a pile of clothes.

Potter Manor stood on the outskirts of a small Muggle village called Godric's Hollow in Hampshire. While at one time the property had been massive (most of the land had since been sold to the village) it was now a reasonable size, with a small wood just south of the property that stretched for miles. Harold often joked with his children saying that it was from these trees of the New Forest that the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts had been formed when Godric Gryffindor himself had lived near the village. Godric, wanting a memento of his home, brought with him 5 saplings from the wood and planted them near the school. Because of the concentration of magic (and the need to make Muggles steer clear) the forest grew at an exponential rate attracting strange and wondrous creatures of all sorts.

The backyard was expansive and housed a lush garden of flowers, herbs, and various potion ingredients. Eleanor's skill at potions was only second to that of her love of herbology. She had learned long ago that it was both convenient and practical to have fresh ingredients ready at her fingertips—while most of the flowers were simply there for her enjoyment and therapy. After a day of settling squabbles and picking dungbombs out of the sofa the only peace she could find was in a row of tulips or hydrangeas.

Today, the children were busying themselves with their most popular pastimescheming in the tree. Several yards from the house stood a giant oak tree which James and Nora had climbed up and down since they'd been old enough to walk. Either jumping or using one another as stepladders easily reached the lowest branch and there were two crooks near the middle where they would sit and ponder over their next quest to aggravate their parents. Today's conversation didn't have so much to do with their parents as it did their father's broom.

"If I could just get at it to practice," James said. " I know I could get on a house team my first year if I train up a bit."

"But you can't fly by yourself." Nora said, stripping a piece of bark from the tree. " Mum and Dad never let you near a broom by yourself. I'm not even allowed _near_ their brooms! What makes you think they'd let you train for Quidditch, anyways?"

"Dad would!" James shouted. He lowered his voice at the sight of Gingy staring at them. "I know he would. It's just Mum we have to worry about." James's eyes narrowed as he lost himself in thought. It would be impossible to practice at night and even more so during the day—especially in the back yard. What he needed was a makeshift Quidditch pitch where he could practice every day. Not to mention a way to sneak the broomstick out of the house without his parents noticing—not that they would as they Apparated everywhere. If he could just fool them into _thinking_ the broom was still in the closet…

"That's it!" James hissed.

"What?" Nora asked.

James leaned over to Nora's branch to make extra sure Gingy could not overhear them. " We just need to make it _look _like Dad's broom is still in the house. If he just looks in the closet and sees something that _looks_ like his broom he won't even think about it!"

"Are you crazy, James? Dad will have your hide if he finds out you—"

"He won't find out! He never uses his broom anymore—all he ever does is Apparate, anyways. And remember that clearing we found in the forest last summer?" James asked. Nora nodded, "We could use that as a pitch to practice?"

"We? Whacha mean 'we', James?" Nora asked. Her eyebrows shot up. "You mean you want _me _to practice with you?"

"Well why not?" James shrugged. "You've only got five years until you start. Besides, I'll need someone to toss the quaffle around and release the snitch."

Nora's brow furrowed. "But what if we get caught? Not just by Dad…it's against the law for younger wizards to use magic."

"We're not _really_ using magic." James explained. "'Cause we're not using a wand, are we?" He grinned. "Don't be a scaredy cat, Norbert."

Nora huffed, "Am not a scaredy cat. And stop calling me 'Norbert' or I won't help you. Alright then, if you're so brave, let's go now."

James's grin was wiped away. "Now?"

"Yeah now." Nora cocked an eyebrow. "Unless you're too afraid to go after it."

James's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed with determination as he clenched the branch. "Oh yeah?" James clamored out of the tree and landed at the base with a thump.

"Oh, I have to watch this." Nora muttered as she scrambled after him.

As the two approached the house Gingy had set aside her pile of socks and was twittering her fingers. "Will young sir and miss be needing anything?" she squeaked.

"Actually, Gingy, Nora and I are kinda hungry. We were going to get a snack and—" James began.

Gingy grinned, "Oh, Gingy can get food for sir and miss right away!"

"No, Gingy. Nora and I wanted to get it ourselves. We'll be right back." James explained.

"Oh, Gingy is sorry young sir—but Mistress asked Gingy to keep an eye on young sir and miss at all times! Mistress is afraid that young sir and miss will get into trouble." Gingy replied nervously.

James shot a glance at Nora who shot back. "Why don't you just wait out here, Nora? I can get the…snacks…by myself." James said with a warning tone.

"But I don't want to wait out here." Nora crossed her arms.

James pleaded with his eyes for Nora to stop whining. "I'll be right back. Besides, we can't get into trouble if we're _both_ inside. _Why don't you stay and keep Gingy company?_" He prayed that Nora would take the hint. If Nora could keep Gingy outside then James would have nothing keeping him from the broom.

"Ohhhh." Nora said, finally understanding. "Alright…you go ahead. Gingy, will you push me on the swing?" As Gingy and Nora set off for the swing Nora glanced back and gave James a quick wink. After years of conspiring together they'd become quite in-sync when it came to planning their assaults.

James walked quickly through the hallway to the foyer. He stopped for a moment and listened before going further. Bax was still somewhere in the house and would tell Harold in a second if James had been going for his broom. Harold and Eleanor had learned long ago to use the house elves as another set of eyes—both Gingy and Bax had strict orders to report any misbehavior on James and Nora's part. Of course, that never stopped the children from trying to manipulate the house elves.

Once James was sure Bax wasn't nearby he went towards the dark paneled walls near the front door. The closet was masked to look like a part of the wall with the latch underneath where the decorative carvings hung over the panels. James felt along the edge until he felt the latch and lifted it up. There was a soft click and just as he thought the door was completely open it creaked loudly. James winced and quickly looked behind him expecting Gingy or Bax to come bounding up asking, "What is young master doing in the closet, sir?" When neither showed up James took a deep breathe and stuck his head inside. He sifted through the neatly hung cloaks and umbrellas and stretched his arm back against the wall, feeling his way against the cool wood until his fingers brushed against what he was looking for. James made a quick grab for the handle and pulled it out and quietly shut the closet door. With another deep breath he bolted up the stairs and sprinted towards his room, lifted up his mattress and tucked the broom underneath. A few moments later he was casually strolling out the back door, trying to conceal the fact he was out of breath. As he cleared the garden he saw Nora still on the swing with Gingy pushing. Nora grinned as James nodded.

"Where is young master and misses snack, sir?" Gingy asked when she noticed James was outside.

James's panicked for a moment before coming up with a quick excuse. "Um, nothing really struck me, Gingy. I think we'll just wait until Mum gets back."

Once James and Nora had clamored back into the tree they bent their heads together, determined to figure out a time and place for their first practice.


	2. Test Flights and Landing Practice

Chapter Two 

It was two nights later when James and Nora felt confident enough to make their move. They had laid in their beds quietly waiting for the familiar sounds of their parents going to bed and the house elves finishing up their chores before heading to their quarters in the cellar. It was a few minutes after midnight when Nora heard a light tapping on her door. Flinging off the covers she tiptoed over and cracked the door.

"Why are you still in pajamas?" James whispered. James was already dressed in jeans, t-shirt and jacket. Over his right shoulder was slung a small bag with one of Harold's old quaffles and an old family wand he'd found in the attic. In his left hand he clutched Harold's old Comet 180.

Nora looked down at her floral nightgown and back up at James. " I thought we had to make it look like we were going to bed." She replied.

"Yeah, but I changed back once I said goodnight." James rolled his eyes, "Just get dressed so we can go. We don't have all night."

Nora grumbled as she wriggled into a pair of jeans and put on a t-shirt and jacket while James kept watch outside the door. As she stuck her head outside once again James muttered, "Glad you could join me, Norbert."

"Oh, shut your face, Janey." Nora hissed.

As quietly as a 10 and 6-year-old could be they crept down the hallway, being careful to avoid the boards that creaked or from brushing against the walls. Once they reached the stairs, Nora tugged on James's sleeve. "Maybe this is a bad idea. We could get in a lot of trouble." She whispered.

James huffed. "Well, if you want to go back to bed the go. I'm going to practice and get on a house team so don't be crying to me when come your second year you're too pathetic to make it on a team."

Nora glared and pushed past James on her way down the stairs. She waited for him at the bottom. When James got to the bottom he went to the closet to make sure the decoy broom was still inside. They had found a thick branch near the outskirts of the forest that when buried far enough in the back could remotely pass for their father's broomstick. However, if Harold were to pull it out he would find only a thick oak branch with some leaves sticking out the end. James had even pulled off the smaller branches near the top and sanded it a bit so it would feel like a real broomstick handle if either of his parents were to brush up against it. After a quick glance James saw that it was still in its place. He nodded to Nora and the two of them made for the back kitchen door. Neither of them dare spoke until they were near the edge of the forest a few minutes later.

"How are we supposed to find our way if we can't see?" Nora asked.

"With this." James pulled out the wand. "I found it in the attic when I was looking for dad's old quaffle."

Nora's eyes went wide. "Won't we get caught if you use a wand? The Ministry will send an owl to mum and dad and then we'll really be in for it!"

"Shhh!" James hissed. "I don't think we'll get caught. I mean, it's only a little 'Lumos', right?" Nora took a step back apprehensively as James cleared his throat and held the wand out in front of him. "Lumos." He whispered. Nothing. He glanced at Nora and tried again. "Lumos." He hissed more forcefully.

"Maybe you're a Squib." Nora snickered.

"Maybe you are." James shot back. Nora snapped her mouth shut and glared. James shook the wand, sending purple sparks shooting out the tip.

"Stop it!" Nora hissed loudly. "They'll see us! Oh, let's just go back now before—"

But James wasn't listening to Nora's pleas. He held the wand firm in his left hand and with his eyes fixated on the tip spoke firmly and clearly. "Lumos!" The wand sprang to life as light flooded from the tip spilling out into the open yard and filling the area with its luminance.

"Put it down!" Nora cried. James, still surprised at his own actions, quickly shoved the wand in his bag.

"Well, at least we know I'm not a Squib." He said, jokingly. They edged closer into the forest and made sure they had a good line of trees blocking them from the house view before James dared to pull the wand out again. Holding it in front of himself, James picked their way through the darkness with Nora clinging desperately to the back of his jacket, hoping not to get left behind.

"James," Nora whispered, "What if we lose our way getting back? Do you know where we're going?"

James stopped for a moment. Truthfully, he hadn't thought about it. They'd been to the clearing dozens of times last summer, but stopped when their mother had asked them where they'd run off to so much. They'd always wanted to keep the clearing as their secret, but they'd always been there during the daytime. James started walking again. "Well, we're going straight, aren't we? I think as long as we keep a straight line we'll find our way. We'll bring something next time to mark the path, but for tonight we'll just do some flying practice so we can get back early."

Nora nodded, still clinging to James's jacket. Although Nora would never admit to James, she was terrified of woods at night. If the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts _was_ once a part of this wood then there was no telling what kinds of creatures would be out there. If James thought she was really afraid he'd make her stay behind and keep the broom all to himself. Still, the prospect of being one of the youngest girls ever to play on a house team outweighed her sheer terror and she plowed on.

After about 15 minutes the trees began to thin and eventually give way to a giant grassy clearing. The children looked up at the vast empty sky and gazed in awe. Nora wasn't allowed to stay up very late, but James had on several occasions and had stargazed with his father from the rooftop of the manor. He could still pick of a few constellations, but James had more pressing matters at hand. Specifically, the left hand.

As they neared the center of the clearing, which was no more than a hundred yards wide and about fifty long, James set his bag down and whispered 'Nox' to extinguish the wand. Their eyes had adjusted to the light and with a full moon overhead the lighting in the field was perfect.

"All right." James said in a determined tone as he straddled the broom.

"When do I get a turn?" Nora asked.

"When I'm done, of course." James replied, with a grin.

"James Potter, that's not—" but James didn't even hear his sister's rebuttal as he kicked off from the ground and shot upward. He shot up about 50 feet before he felt the rush of panic and instinctively dug his heels down. The broom stopped immediately and James sat panting for a moment as he tried to regroup. He hadn't thought he'd raise quite that quickly. The last time he'd been on a broom with his father he'd only gone up a couple feet. Then again, last time his father had also charmed the broom so it couldn't go any higher than 15 feet.

"Hey! Are you going to sit there all night?" Nora called up. "I want a turn, too!"

James looked down at his sister and gulped. He was higher than he had imagined. Looking forward he leaned slightly and zipped forward on the broom. He moved left and right with agility he didn't realize he had. He zoomed past the clearing and further along the top of the forest before swinging around and circling back. He dove up and down before settling down in the clearing a few feet away from Nora. His hair was swept back, his face pink with excitement and chill, and grinning ear to ear.

"That was bloody fantastic! Did you see that, Nora! Did you?" James cried as Nora came sprinting over. James was practically panting with sheer joy. "I didn't even think I could fly like that! Did you see me?"

"Yes, you were very fancy. Now can I go?" Nora reached impatiently for the broomstick, but James jerked it away. "Hey! No fair!"

"Who said you was going up?" James looked at Nora irritatingly. "I've been flying a lot longer than you have. Besides, every time you've been on a broom it's only ever gone higher than 10 feet because Dad charms it that way. Mum would tie you to a tree if she could."

Nora glared and set her hands on her hips. "Now you look here, James Potter. You said we'd both be coming out to practice. I'm not just going to sit out here and toss the quaffle up to you while I have to stay on the ground. I'm going to get my chance to practice too and if you don't let me I'll go straight to dad and tell him you took his broom."

"You wouldn't." James scoffed. " You'd be in just as much trouble as I would."

Nora sneered, crossed her arms, and suddenly put on an innocent face with sad, overdramatic puppy dog eyes. "But daddy," she said mockingly, "I just wanted to help James get on the house team next year. He said he couldn't get hurt. Please daddy!" James's overconfident expression vanished. He knew she could pull it off if she really wanted to. She'd be in trouble, but nowhere near as much as he'd be if Nora had anything to do with it.

"Fine." James grumbled. "**_But_** with one condition. I have to fly with you the first couple times."

"What!" Nora cried.

"That's the rules. You've never been up before. Besides that, you're lighter than I am. If you shot up as fast as I did you'd be twice as high." In all truthfulness James was only halfway going about things for his sister's personal safety. He also wanted to stay on the broom as long as possible. "If we're both on it won't go as high. I can show you how to move and everything. Look, dad did the same thing with me when I first got on a broom." He watched Nora's face as she carefully weighed the options. She finally sighed.

"All right, but you have to really teach me. I don't want to be up there and you get to do everything." Nora stated.

"Fair enough." James replied. Scooting back on the broomstick he gave Nora just enough room to get in front of him. "Now, keep your feet flat on the ground."

"Like this?" Nora asked as she planted her feet firmly.

"Yeah, that's good. Now, when I say go you need to kick off the ground—not too hard, but not too soft, okay? One…two…thr—" But before James could finish his countdown Nora had already kicked off hard, sending them skyrocketing upward. "Heels down! Heels down!" James cried. The broom jerked to a halt slightly lower than before, but still fairly high. "I said to wait!"

"I know!" Nora said. She tightened her grip on the handle and James could feel her entire body tense up.

"Relax, Norbert. You're not going to be able to do anything if you're stiff as a board." James said. He sighed and took a more reassuring tone. "Don't be scared. I won't let you fall."

"I'm not scared." Nora said defiantly, but with a slight quiver to her voice. "So now what?"

"Lean forward just…just a little bit. Not too much!" James warned. "And we'll go forward." Nora barely leaned forward and the broom lurched forward so quickly that Nora leaned back into James to stop it from moving.

"Do you want to go down yet?" He asked.

"No." Nora said, "I want to learn how to fly." James rolled his eyes at his sister's stubbornness, but was taken aback when she leaned forward again and this time didn't flinch back. They zoomed forward at a considerably slower speed before Nora jerked the handle to the left and they turned. She pulled the handle up and they went higher, this time clearing the forest canopy and coasting over the treetops. Nora laughed as she leaned forward so they could pick up speed.

"This is so cool!" Nora screamed over the wind whipping around them.

"All right, now set it down back in the clearing." James said in his 'I'm-the-big-brother-so-do-what-I-say' voice.

"No! You got to stay up here longer than this!" Nora turned the handle again to make a full circle.

"But we have to get back to the house before the sun starts to come up!" James argued. He put his hands just ahead of Nora's on the broomstick and tried to take over steering. "You'll get another turn tomorrow."

"No!" Nora shot back. They struggled for control of the broomstick and became completely oblivious to the world below them that it wasn't until a disgruntled James looked up and shouted "TREE!" that they both dropped their arms and went head first into a trunk of a very large pine.

They both lay still on the ground for a moment before James got up. Thankfully, they hadn't been more than about 10 feet up when they had stuck the tree, but it didn't take any of the stings out of the fall. James winced as he walked forward towards the broom, limping slightly from what would later turn out to be a sprained ankle. His stomach dropped and skin went cold and clammy as he gazed down at his father's broomstick. His father's very _broken_ broomstick. The shaft had split straight down the center with the top part already shattered. Twigs stuck out at every which angle from the end. James began to understand the meaning of the phrase 'seeing your life flash before your eyes'. Harold was going to kill them.

James's cold fear was disturbed by the sound of moaning coming several feet away. Rushing towards the sound he found Nora lying in a heap holding her left arm and rolling on the ground.

"Nora? Nora? What's wrong?" James cried out in a panic. He rolled his sister over to her back and saw her wincing in pain.

"I broke my sodding arm, that's what!" She screamed. "James, it hurts!" He could see her trying to force tears back.

"Stay right here, I'm going to get mum and dad." James jumped up to leave, but Nora pulled him back with her good arm.

"No! Are you mad? They'll kill us if they find out!" Nora cried.

"Kill us or not, you've got a broken arm. We're not likely to hide that at breakfast tomorrow." James said. "You just wait right here and don't move. I'll be right back." James leapt up once more and sprinted towards the edge of the clearing where they'd come in. He picked his way through the fallen trees and branches back towards the house, his mind racing. He didn't know which he would be in trouble for more—stealing the broomstick, flying the broomstick, breaking the broomstick, or nearly killing his sister with the broomstick. It was a nice broom, but James had a feeling his parents would be more put out at the prospect of losing a child than losing an old broom.

James was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that it seemed to take half the time as before to get back to the house. Tearing through the back kitchen door he took the stairs two at a time and burst into his parents' bedroom. Harold shot up straight out of bed, wand at the ready, while Eleanor screamed and reached for her own wand by the nightstand. "WHO IS THAT!" Harold boomed.

"Mum! Dad! Come quick—" James gasped for breath. "Nora's hurt!"

"Bloody hell, James!" Harold exhaled as he dropped his wand. "I could've blown you halfway across the room." Ellie was already out of bed and throwing on a robe.

"What do you mean 'Nora's hurt'? Did she fall out of bed?" Ellie was starting down the hallway and threw open Nora's bedroom door.

"No…she's out in the forest." James explained, trailing behind her. By now, Harold had joined them in the hallway and had thrown on a pair of trousers and his red-checked robe.

"What? Where's Nora?" Harold asked as he strode into the middle of her room. Her covers had been haphazardly thrown aside and her teddy bear lay randomly near the window painting a rather frightening picture.

"Ellie—Floo the Ministry! I want Aurors here now!" Harold shouted.

"NO!" James screamed. Ellie and Harold both spun to face their son. "She's in the forest. She's hurt." James took a deep breath and stared down at the floor. "We took the broom from the closet so we could practice quidditch in the field in the forest we found last summer. She—we crashed the broom into a tree and now she's broken her arm and she's out there all by herself and—" Harold and Ellie were out the door before James had even finished.

"Of all the stupid, idiotic, reckless things you two could possibly do this is the worst!" Ellie scolded as they made their way to the kitchen. James leaned against the doorframe and watched with overwhelming sense of guilt as his mother sifted through vials and ingredients in the cupboards. "Stealing a broom! Flying without supervision! How in Merlin's name did you get all the way into the middle of the forest—_at night_—without a—" she stopped sifting to face James. "James Potter did you use a wand?" James's face flushed and he started hard at the floor. Ellie closed her eyes. "James you know it's illegal for underage wizards—"

"—To use wands or any kind of magic. I know, I know." James raised his eyes slightly. "I'm not going to get in trouble with the Ministry, am I?"

"You mean are they going to throw you into Azkaban?" Ellie asked. She glared down at James who had lowered his gaze once more to the floor. It was obvious that James was torturing himself enough. "The Ministry has more important matters at hand than worrying about two reckless children doing a simple 'Lumos'" Ellie replied in a softer tone. "No, you won't hear anything from the Ministry. They'll probably assume it was your father or I."

James nodded and slinked over to the small table and chairs set off to the side. He buried his head in his arms, but Ellie brought him a glass of water. "Don't worry about Nora. She'll be fine. Merlin knows I've mended plenty of broken bones in my day—most of them yours." James took a drink and set the glass back.

"I just wanted to get good enough to get on a house team." He explained. "I thought that if I could get some practice in that I'd get on a team my first year. Nora was going to help throw the quaffle around. I just let her on the broom for a minute…and I was riding with her the whole time. We started fighting and…" James broke off as his voice began to waiver and he took another gulp of water.

Ellie sat her vials and bandages on the table and faced James. "James, you'll have lots of chances to fly and play quidditch and do lots of other magic. Once you're at Hogwarts. Do you know why underage wizards aren't allowed to do any magic?" James shook his head and wiped his nose with his jacket sleeve. "Because it's dangerous and you could get hurt. What if your 'Lumos' didn't work and you set something on fire? What if you blew something—or worse, someone—up? Part of the reason you go to a magic school is to learn how to do magic right."

"I'm sorry." James said in a whisper. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and tried to hide the fact that he was crying. Ellie leaned towards her son and hugged him.

"I love you, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook. I'm just glad neither one of you were killed!" Ellie held James back at arms length and smiled. "God, you're so much like your father."

It was at that time that Harold came through the back door with Nora cradled in his arms. Nora was sniffling as Harold set her in a chair next to James.

" Hi mum." Nora said as she settled herself in the chair.

"Hi mum, indeed. Out at night by yourselves flying around like idiots!" Ellie scolded. "Drink this." She handed Nora a vile full of a purple liquid and Nora drank it in one gulp. She made a face. "Oh, get used to it. You've got another one coming." Ellie handed her daughter another vial and this time Nora held her nose as she drank it.

"Do I have to drink more?" Nora made another face. "That stuff is so gross."

"Well, not unless you want to wake up in pain in the middle of the night." Ellie fished out another potion. "This is a mild pain-relief potion to help you sleep tonight. Any cuts or scrapes that need a wound-cleaning potion?" Nora shook her head vigorously, wanting to avoid the putrid, smoking potion at any cost. She drank the pain-relief potion and slumped back in the chair. In a moment she was out cold and Harold began to carry her up to her room.

"James, stay here. You and I need to have a serious discussion." Harold said. There was nothing reassuring about the tone.

Ellie pulled her robe tighter around her and set about putting the potions back where they belonged. James sat in silence and ran his fingers up and down the water glass. What would his father have to say? By the sound of his voice he was borderline furious. Would his father ground him? Spank him? Wasn't he a little old to be spanked? As different forms of corporal punishment—each more terrifying than the next—flashed before his eyes, Harold came back to the kitchen and pulled up a chair across from his son. Ellie stood behind him. James suddenly knew what it felt like standing trial in front of the Wizengamot.

" All right, James, why are we here?" Harold asked calmly. Harold had always been of the mind that screaming at a child who already knew they were in trouble never did any good. As Harold's own father had done, he preferred to sit down with his children and have discussions about their behavior. It had a much more serious impact on future actions.

James took a deep breath and went back to the conversation he and Nora had had two days ago. Once he had finished with the story again he looked from the glass up to his father. Harold's expression was impossible to read—he looked somewhere between wanting to yell or just sigh. Harold folded his hands. "James, I am extremely disappointed in you." James hung his head again. "I'm not angry about crashing the broom. Merlin knows I never use it anyways. I'm not even angry that you snuck out of the house, because although I do not condone it by any means, I did myself as a child. Do you know why I'm disappointed?"

James shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Because I lied and stole." He replied.

"Look at me, James." Harold said, firmly. James faced his father. "Because you knowingly and deliberately stole from me is only half of it. You put yourself and your sister in serious danger tonight. You have done more than just disappoint me…you have abused my trust." James swallowed back his tears. He knew he had this coming. "I should whip you within an inch of your life!" Harold's voice grew and James shrunk back in his chair. "But…I have never laid a hand on you or your sister in anger and I'm not about to. You are grounded to this house for the next three weeks. You will study. You will have meals. You will assist Gingy and Bax in house chores. You will stay in this house. Do you understand?"

James nodded. "Yes, sir."

Ellie looked down at her son. "We want a solemn promise from you that you will never do anything so thoughtless and reckless again."

"I won't." James said. "May I please be excused?"

"Go to bed." Harold said gruffly. As James slid out of his chair and inched towards the door Harold reached out and grabbed his son. James hugged his father tightly. "I love you, James."

"I love you too, dad." James replied. He hugged and kissed his mother before making his way up the stairs and to his room.

Harold sighed and flopped back into his chair as Ellie waved her wand to set two cups of tea in front of them.

"Well?" Ellie asked as she took a seat across from her husband. "Go ahead. I know you've been dying to say something for the last twenty minutes."

"You should've heard the way Nora described it, El." Harold grinned. "James on the broom. He's a natural! He's getting a broom for his birthday." He said, matter-of-factly.

"You'll do no such thing, Harold Potter!" Ellie exclaimed. "What kind of message is that? Ground him for stealing your broom and crashing it then rewarding him by giving him one of his own?"

"Flying lessons, at the very least." Harold insisted. "The boy has a gift for flight, no doubt about it. Takes after his old man." He winked.

"I seem to recall something about 'his old man' falling flat on his arse the first time he got on a school broom." Ellie said sarcastically as she cocked an eyebrow.

"Those rickety old things? No! No son of mine is going to win the house cup on a Moontrimmer." Harold said, taking a swig of tea.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Men and their broomsticks. You know what they say."

"No, El, please enlighten me once again with your insightful observations about men and their overcompensation for—" Harold began.

"All right, all right." Ellie waved a hand. "Let's just go to bed. You can begin to overcompensate for _your_ fool-headed children." She winked and walked towards the open door.

Harold down the last of his tea and followed quickly behind.


End file.
